


Tripping on Words

by ScarlettWallflower



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Berwald with a speech disorder, First Dates, Human AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 23:28:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11301039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarlettWallflower/pseuds/ScarlettWallflower
Summary: First dates are hard. They're even harder when you can't speak well or hear what your date is saying. As Berwald struggles to make his intentions clear, he prays that maybe, just maybe, Timo might be the person who finally understands.





	Tripping on Words

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr account June 2017. Sweden has a stutter and an auditory processing disorder. He probably has some larger sensory processing issues, I headcanon him to be on the autism spectrum, but they're not important to this story. 
> 
> If you don't know what auditory processing or sensory processing disorders are, you don't need to know to understand the story, but I encourage you to look them up if you're curious.

When Berwald Oxenstierna had imagined his own death, he’d always imagined it being in some sterile hospital room with a few loved ones holding his hand to gently guide him into the great beyond. He had never once anticipated that it might come in a more natural setting, such as an Italian restaurant.

But as he rolled and unrolled his shirt sleeves for the third time, it occurred to him that he desired nothing more than the sweet release of death and that pasta di fuoco he’d just ordered that sounded really delicious.

He’d done it. He’d finally asked Timo on a date. The guy he’d been steadily and painfully crushing on since sophomore year of high school. And Timo had said yes. It was a rare stroke of courage Berwald doubted would ever be repeated in his lifetime.

But there was only one problem. In all his bravado, Berwald had forgotten how much, ahem, “trouble” he had communicating with people.

His eyes darted up to make sure Timo wasn’t looking directly at him- oh god, he was. Timo caught his eye and gave him a nice, sort of reassuring smile.

“So, have you decided what you’re going to major in? I think they’re expecting us to declare in the fall.”

Timo blinked patiently at him, chin resting on an open palm, waiting for his reply.

Okay, Berwald, this is an easy question you already know the answer to. Just say the words.

“SSSSS-Software engineering. With a minor in um, um, uh…” Shit, he had that tight feeling in his neck and throat again. His muscles were basically seizing up and refusing to work properly. And he was so close too! That damn S sound always tripped him up.

Berwald couldn’t remember the exact moment he’d begun to stutter, maybe fourth or fifth grade, but ever since, it had always been with him, like some unholy algorithm, endlessly generating what-if’s and Bad Endings. Everything he did involved careful, even obsessive, planning and accounting for.

Sometimes he got it right, rehearsed enough to choke the words out and move on. But, more often than not, he panicked. Fight or flight kicked in and his primitive lizard brain decided that coherent speech was far less important than running from an imaginary hungry tiger. Thus, he was reduced to a stammering, stuttering, scared little boy in the body of a hulking man with slumped shoulders and a stern expression.

Berwald’s gaze had been shamefully averted down to the tablecloth. But when he risked a peek up, Timo looked a little concerned but not annoyed or frustrated.

“What did you say you want to minor in?”

Berwald’s panicked mind reminded him of his speech therapist telling him to take a deep breath before speaking to calm down and then another to actually get the words out. Flat speech, not bumpy speech.

“Cyber security,” he said in a measured, slow tone.

Timo took a sip of his water and nodded enthusiastically.

“Wow, computers, huh? That’s a great field to get into! You’ll do really well in it too, you’re so smart.”

Rather than go through the whole ordeal again, Berwald opted to just give a bashful shake of his head.

As if sent by divine intervention, the waiter came by with their food. Timo and the waiter were both that friendly, expressive type of person and chatted about how delicious the food looked and what wines paired well with which dishes and so forth.

Berwald only gave the waiter a small nod of gratitude when his own food was placed in front of him. The sudden fear that Timo might think him rude did not help matters.

Timo looked across the table at Berwald’s plate and grinned.

“Yours looks so good! Mm, you might need to eat quickly if you don’t want me to steal it all.”

Berwald took a long sip of water to avoid having to speak immediately. He never knew what to say when people made jokes like that. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a sense of humor, but how exactly did you respond to something like that?

Perhaps his dismay at his lack of social skills had registered on Berwald’s face, because Timo chuckled after a pause.

“Just kidding, I wouldn’t steal your food. At least not on the first date.”

The first date? Did that imply that he was already thinking about more dates? Truthfully, Berwald had been so preoccupied with having a date with the man of his dreams at all and trying not to screw it up, he’d never even considered the possibility that Timo might want to see him again.

Though he wanted desperately to let Timo know how much he admired him and that he wanted to go on many, many more dates together, Berwald couldn’t speak. If by some miracle his speech came out clear on the first try, there was always the looming chance that he would use the wrong words and offend Timo or creep him out.

Berwald just adjusted his glasses and began eating. The pasta was as delicious as he’d hoped but he couldn’t seem to enjoy it much. His tongue tasted sour and his throat was parched.

Timo didn’t try for any more conversation and Berwald couldn’t help but be relieved. He hadn’t eaten since lunchtime and, so he rationalized, maybe getting some good food into his system would help him calm down and think more clearly.

After some time of shoveling forkfuls of pasta into his mouth and praying to whatever gods might be listening that he would suddenly gain the social skills of a normal human being, Berwald heard…something.

He shifted his head up and saw Timo looking at him expectantly. Berwald knew what he’d heard was Timo’s voice and he could deduce that Timo had probably asked him a question. But it had happened so fast and Berwald had been too focused on his thoughts to understand. Reluctantly, he began the too-familiar process.

“Beg your pardon?”

“I said, do you…?”

His ears were straining, he was looking directly at Timo’s face trying to figure out what he was saying to him. It didn’t help matters that the restaurant had gotten loud all of a sudden and Berwald was so, so nervous.

He couldn’t ask Timo to repeat himself. He knew how it was. People got irritated with you, you looked like a complete fool, having to ask a million times, not because you couldn’t hear but because your brain was working to slow to process what was happening.

He remembered the weird looks he’d received over the years, Is something wrong with this guy? The burning shame of being laughed at by his classmates when he’d asked them to repeat what they said several times. “He’s too stupid to know when we’re making fun of him!”

Frantically, Berwald tried to guess at what Timo may have been asking for. The salt, maybe? It was the only thing on the table. With a shaking hand, he offered it to Timo.

“Oh, no, no, I meant , did you want to try some of mine?” He scooped a bite onto his fork and held it out.

But when Berwald reached for the fork, Timo moved his hand quicker and fed it to him, left hand cupped under Berwald’s chin to prevent any spills.

Berwald didn’t dare to breathe. Timo’s hands were right near his face, near his mouth. To another person, it might have just be a nice gesture. To Berwald, for whom the phrase touch-starved was an understatement, it was incredibly intimate.

Timo raised an eyebrow and looked him dead in the eye. “How is it?”

“GGGG-” He had just had to pick a word with that hard consonant, didn’t he? Berwald could’ve kicked himself, he couldn’t go a full minute without making a fool of himself!

He swallowed hard and tried again. “It’s good.”

“I thought so too! The sauce is fantastic. Really rich and creamy.” Timo glanced to the side for a moment, and then held Berwald’s gaze again.

“Um, is everything okay? Are you, you’re not having fun?”

Air raid sirens went off in Berwald’s head. Okay, he wouldn’t exactly say he was having fun, but that was just because he was nervous about this going well. He liked spending time with Timo, liked listening to Timo talk. But he couldn’t say all that.

So he just said in a low voice, “Sorry. M’ just really nervous.”

Timo rubbed the back of his neck. “I- I’m nervous too. I know I’m really weird, pretty much everyone says so, and so I was trying to act more normal tonight but I think I went too far and ended up being boring instead.”

“You’re not boring.” Berwald felt a little shocked. He’d assumed this date was just business as usual for Timo. Timo had always seemed so confident and enthusiastic in class. He’d never imagined that Timo might feel self conscious.

Berwald licked his lips and continued. “In ccclass,” that palative C sound almost tripped him up but he was too determined to say what he meant, “you always have something really smart or interesting to say. Everybody likes you, even if they don’t know you well. I really like you. That’s why I’ve been so nervous. I know how bad my stutter is and my speech therapist says I have an auditory processing disorder, whatever that means, and I just- I don’t want to look bad in front of you.”

That was quite a speech for Berwald. He had to take several deep breaths afterwards to prevent himself from passing out and really ruining the night.

He fully expected Timo to look relieved, happy that Berwald was self-aware enough to realize his stutter was annoying and just get up and leave.

But then Timo did something strange. He reached across the table and took Berwald’s hand.

“I can understand you just fine, even if you do stutter. And I don’t really know what an auditory processing disorder is but it doesn’t bother me. Actually, um, I’ve had a little bit of a crush for a few years now and I’ve been working up the courage to ask you out. But you beat me to it! You’re stronger than you think.”

Timo looked down at their hands and a strawberry blush was dusting his cheeks. “And I hope this isn’t our last date.”

Berwald smiled and shook his head. “Not at all.”

That bashful look almost seemed like it had been imagined by Berwald, as quickly as it was replaced by a mischievous wry grin.

“I also hope you kiss on the first date because the backseat of my car is very comfortable, if I do say so myself.”

As luck would have it, that excitable, auburn-haired waiter was coming by their table at just the right time. He rubbed Timo’s hand with his thumb as he said, clear as bell, “Check please.”


End file.
